Cursed
by Taciyet
Summary: A jump return to Asgard accidentally pulls an unfortunate Midgardian, who is promptly cursed with the form of a creature. Said Midgardian is hyper-aware and constantly reminded that she is balancing on the shred of morality he seems to possess, but he is helping her. Despite his other pursuits... (Loki Centric, Post Dark World, No Pairings, Eventual Dark Elves (Are People Too))
1. Prologue-ish - Chapter 1

**Warnings:** language, violence, mild gore, mild sexual humor, hints of torture, brief mentions of noncon

* * *

So many, many lights.

The lights did irritate him, lining the walls in the dim car tunnel, even as he exited it. Always had. There were too many times when, in his searches, he'd deluded himself that they were something more. Something less artificial, more...real.

In childhood he'd often wonder about lights. About what they were. If they were more than just a spell. If such lights could even truly exist without being conjured.

Of course, he'd learned since his youth that such things did not exist. Or at least, if they did, that they were not for him to find.

There were other things that he searched for at present anyway.

More pressing, less whimsical things.

Still, he knew. Even in youth-even _from_ youth, that had been all he'd done to the lights. Chase, or farther, had they ever been within his means to reach. Drive away. Be it the light from the heat of a burning conflagration, or the warm glow of a fae. A golden reflect, or the muted shine of ice...

The glint of Chitauri metal, he reminded himself sternly. What you actually need. Pushing errant thoughts aside.

Worst case luck, the mortals of SHIELD had their grimy paws on it. Best case, his scrying uncovered it, and he would recover it from the grimy paws of whatever other mortal had happened upon it.

He gritted his teeth. Of course, the desire to not draw attention would get in the way.

Besides, there were worse cases. The Chitauri could have all of it.

Such didn't appear to be the case luckily. It wasn't long of more scrying that a mask of one of the aliens revealed itself. Lifting it from the human's "thrift shop," despite them being able to apparently hide it from government seizure all this time, was laughable. Reaching out with his magic again revealed still more, though lesser scraps. Sizable, and still wholly useful, some of the microchips and wiring surviving.

He couldn't care much what the metallurgist wanted with the Chitauri materials. He wasn't much for the practice of metallurgy, it being of little to no interest to him. And as long as the man held up his end of the bargain, he could care much less.

Still, he thought as he came around the corner where his latest scrying had led him. Trying to hide his sudden, freezing halt as something less inconspicuous, more casual, as he'd looked up and realized his absentminded state. Realized where it had allowed him to wander. He wished he'd been tasked to gather something else.

Something he could gather far, far away from this realm. This wretched realm.

The foot of Stark Tower seemed to be the favored spot at which to leave flowers and memorials. Plans to make something more concrete and specific to the incident were being talked over, but only now. On top of clean up, some people seemed almost put off by the idea, and debates over whether to erect anything or not were ever present. Sensibly, given just verbal and social interaction that had followed the invasion, it was sensible to say that the site would be nothing but a lure for conspiracy theorists and the highly religious, and conflict between they themselves and angry mourners would be almost inevitable.

The hooded figure paused in what seemed from the stutter that took his steps, to be a sudden decision. And there on the corner he stood. Nearly a block away, gazing at it; it would be foolish to venture closer, he knew.

It was foolish to be here at all really.

Especially given the notion that the building's owner was surely aware to monitor for arcane energies by now. If he wasn't overestimating him. Truly, the sense of respect the "Avengers" had earned from him, he would be lying if he said it hadn't waned since that day.

Waned, but not dissipated. He distantly wondered what masochistic fascination kept him rooted to the spot. His eyes unable to look away from the mortals' gestures and tokens of tribute.

As it were, someone stopped there next to him at some point. Though he didn't notice, much less that their "Sad, isn't it?" was directed at him until after the fact. It took him long enough to respond, that by the time he noticed the the words were for him, he was turning to a, "Hey... You okay?"

Typical.

The random overly-sociable for his taste-and for this city for that matter, in his experience-stranger stared back at his brown eyes half framed by a mess of darker brown hair when he paid them mind. It clicked a moment soon enough to save himself that the deadpan look that was probably his face would do nothing more than invite more of the prying. At least, here with this person of this place-be their care born of bored prying or authenticity. So he tried to morph his features into something of a smile.

Whatever resulted, he caught the other's involuntary slight drawback and facial scrunch. They recovered quickly enough that even he would-almost-have to be slightly more impressed than amused. Even if that recovery was into an awkward smile that excused.

Luckily this left open an opportunity for him to turn away and give a nod to whatever was said softly during the next near minute, as he was paying it no mind. And in seemingly the same amount of time he found himself the only one standing on the curb again.

Eventually, a pale hand shied from beneath the top garb to pull it more securely closed, and with a dismissive noise he allowed himself to be herded back into the flow of the perpetually hurrying crowd.

He would have to go with his city hopping plan after all, with that lapse of judgement.

A stray dog sniffed hungrily at the leather of the booted feet. He ignored it as it followed for a few blocks. Focusing. Buses may sometimes have cameras, but less urban places had far fewer. Either way, a handful of the devices was far more manageable than the seemingly endless amount he seemed to encounter in a place like this.

Besides, he thought as he settled in a seat, the ride would give him a chance to rest. His magic reserve, if nothing else. Even now he wasn't certain if the face he'd replicated on the formed coin was correct. He was just too irritably tired to care at the moment, it was starting to register. How long exactly had he been searching? His mind hadn't really kept track of it at the time. Even now it wasn't vitally important information. Still, he thought about he hadn't taken a break to rest since he'd arrived in this realm. It seemed just hours. A day? Possibly two? His only rest being the time taken to scry. If one could even count that. Still more magic he'd used on top of upholding a glamour enchantment off and on.

The thought reminded him that he was holding such a guise right now.

A quick but subtle check for cameras. Then the head tucked chin back into his chest. Might as well rest completely...

Let any of the mortals dare touch him.

The passenger in the seat across the aisle from him squinted his eyes. He could have sworn the lock of brown hair hanging from under the hood had just coiled itself and turned black-darkened as if wood by fire. Then again... He turned back to the bottle concealed in the brown bag that the bus driver had so graciously ignored. He _had_ just gotten off of work...

* * *

The nine to five grind. Never did it not feel good to hang up an apron at the end of a full day of work. There was that one guy who had complained about their little cafe not serving hot chocolate. Well, at least not the cheap store brand that some came into the place looking for. Theirs were specialty brands. Dark hot chocolate, milk hot chocolate, soy hot chocolate, white hot chocolate.

Still, she thought as she exited the building, not even near 'Can I speak to a manager?' status man could put a damper on her mood. Not when the rest of the day was met with promise of going home where there was quiet and promise of a paycheck.

She'd made short her goodbyes as she snagged a complimentary-for employees-highly caffeinated tea, ever to know and form opinions on the flavors. There was literally a new recommendation every other day for what they should try. It was like a bar, but with tea instead of alcohol. Though the owner was in favor of throwing a little twenty-one and older alcohol fest every few weeks.

Though working a work day grind was working a workday grind, she supposed she could have gotten a job at a worse place. Their prices were more affordable than the bigger national chain coffee shops around surprisingly. So while they got just as many uppity as well as down to earth wealth patrons as one would expect, they also had enough hipsters, aspiring writers and crash studying college students staking out a table next to an outlet for hours on end, and of course the average simple passerby, simply there for their morning fix. She wasn't much of a tea or coffee person herself, but she could see how the smell of them was near if not actually therapeutic for some.

Still, today seemed like a home as soon as possible day. If the young woman had to look at another flip-lip lid topped cup for at least twelve hours, she might lose her mind. The thought even had her nearly sentence her own cradled cup to the next trash can she passed. Almost. She was content simply rolling the bottom of it along the waste bin's domed top.

Going full force with getting home asap, she decided to shave five minutes off of her walk back by cutting through alleyways. Something she avoided for the obvious reasons. Muggers, rapists, drunk people, giant mutant rats raiding dumpsters, said giant mutants biting her and giving her some deathly disease, someone finding her passed out on a pile of garbage due to something related to any of those or not...

Still, she exited the several alleys despite these stigmas as planned, and was falling back into her autopilot daze as she approached the next one until she saw. A figure, walking into the alley before her. She thought nothing of it as they hadn't seemed to pay her any mind. Bad justification for an even moderately populated rural area, she knew. But the statistics of likelihood that nothing would happen were still on her side.

Halfway through, the oddly cloaked figure stopped. Causing her steps to falter.

But she, hesitantly, moved on nonetheless. A cloak wasn't practical attacking wear, she reasoned to herself. Besides, this wasn't _city-_city. If she screamed loud enough if she failed to just elbow the person where the sun didn't shine and make a getaway, _someone_ would hear her. Maybe want to be a hero.

Assuming the figure had parts that would hurt if attacked where the sun didn't shine. Either way, she thought as she noticed what they were doing, the middle of a dark alley was an odd place to try and admire yourself in a mirror.

_Just keep walking, you paranoid maniac,_ she scolded herself. Someone dressed in a gaudily green cloak was easily enough describable to the police. The young woman almost laughed aloud when she saw a soft light from what must have been a phone where their back was turned to her still. Apparently another perpetrator of the stopping. Paranoia dismissed then.

Almost dismissed.

She twitched but ignored it when the cloak billowed despite a lack of wind in the alley. It wasn't as if the person had seemed to react to her.

Yet suddenly, just as she was passing, her stomach turned and the ground wasn't there.

It must have only been a foot, two feet, that she dropped. But it didn't change the fact that drop she did, due to the _disappearance_ of the _ground_.

It took her body a moment to register that she was falling. Even if it would have sooner and afforded her time to react, the surface she landed on wasn't solid. Bumps, softness, spaces where her foot slipped through.

She instantly fell onto her back with nothing stable to stand on. The bumps and mounds dug into her, bending her body over and around them at odd angles.

Before any of this could fully register in those first few moments, the sharper of the pains came spiraling to the forefront. Lashing from the initially pained spot on her upper arm like a flame eating fuel. Hungry, rabid, and _burning_.

It was difficult to focus on where she was, what happened, if moving was overly smart. The putrid rotting smell of the place registered just as her hand met a fur or felt-like texture she couldn't see to tell in the darkness and promptly fell through it with the slightest weight, hitting with a wet sound whatever was underneath it. She was already fighting back a retch between the pain and the timing of that sound with the smell, not even having to feel the slippery, malleable mass her hand had entered.

The rhetorical flames from the pain in her shoulder had spread to her entire body now, in the matter of the seconds since she'd fallen. She felt her body shaking uncontrollably, and for a moment wasn't sure that she _wasn't actually_ on fire, a gray film over her vision.

What must have been not even five seconds after the drop, her eyes had just enough time to see the very dimly lit ceiling vanish. The sudden light blinded her for a moment. A moment, as there was someone knelt next to her now. She recognized the cloak of the stopped figure first as they leaned over her. Her eyes were just confused enough between adjusting to darkness one moment, and the figure was at such an angle to the light, that she could see their face.

And recognized it.

As the man with the army of aliens that had attacked Manhattan.

Her heart lurched.

She didn't know his name, hadn't seen him outside of fast moving videos and sub-par pictures. But as it was also supported by the near out of place cloak, she was almost completely sure it was him. The man firing down at the streets in Manhattan. The man in an amateur cell phone video ordering a crowd in Germany to kneel, moments after dispatching a police cruiser.

The young woman wondered when the floor had become solid as she raised an arm in what was all she could do in the way of self defense. Her body didn't allow her to do anything more, other arm too crippled with still escalating burning, at the pain-that she could experience _this much pain_ in the matter of what couldn't have started more than ten seconds ago-of her joints feeling excruciatingly strained then cracking, to drag herself up now that she had purchase. Mind so sure her life was about to end if she didn't do _something _as she saw his hands raise with a glowing film.

She felt her mouth open at the same time as the gray darkening, but wasn't sure if she cried out, due to the ringing-turning-hissing growing to deafening levels in her ears. Which was what alerted her to the spots crowding out her vision. The green clad figure in one part of her vision, her distorting hand, nails blackening and elongating, in another.

Darkness took her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Warnings:** violence, mild language, mild gore, mild sexual humor, hints of torture, brief mentions of noncon

* * *

The first time she came to, her head and vision swam far too much to tell anything.

She could feel herself moving of her own accord, much to her confusion. Her body felt strange, but a second attempt to open her eyes and make sense of the blurs was shortlived.

There were a few more repeats of these attempts to awaken between bouts of unconsciousness, before a time that she managed to alleviate some of the spinning and see.

But there was something within her sight that she didn't recognize. Extended from her face. Tipped with, if she could trust her honestly still blurred sight, what for all the world looked to be a dog's nose.

...Was she wearing a mask? Why? Her mind played with the possibility and probability of her having ingested hallucinogens or any form of sedative. Breakfast, lunch... Too long ago for someone to have slipped her anything, it would have kicked in long before now.

The coffee cup?

Oh god.

Before she allowed the panic to set in fully, she focused on her body. At first she'd thought she was crawling. That tended to be the immediate, sensible explanation for being so close to the ground, feeling your muscles working and moving you. Her movements, however pained her very muscles and bones seemed to be, were not as jolting as they would be, had she been on hands and knees however.

Eyes went down.

Paws. Paws that she could feel the rough ground through.

_Her_ paws.

Though her mind scrambled for it as her body froze, it was too late to overly sensibly revert to entertaining the hallucinogens idea.

Though what about her body _not being in a human shape_ seemed _sensible_? she thought. Vaguely registering a pull from her neck forcing her to keep walking.

Her weakened, aching body didn't take the shock well either way. And vomited. An urge it had been fighting back everytime she'd dizzingly woken up anyway.

Hallucinogens? Dream? Yes, had to be a dream.

But she hadn't gone to sleep today, had just been awake leaving her-

Pale green eyes rushed back to the fore of her memory. Hands glowing-

It was too late to follow the lead, if there really was one, around her neck. Her neck burned, spreading up until it reached her eyes. Forcing them closed. The flaming pain going internal from there, what felt like her very blood burning.

* * *

The young woman had lost count of how many times she'd lost her grip on consciousness. She didn't know how many times she'd regained herself at this point. But she knew one thing distinctly after a few moments...

It took a mustering of her sliver of energy. But she strained and twisted for only a few moments. Moments, before she accomplished what she wanted.

Her..._fangs, _in her lower jaw, managed to snag the cloth around her neck that the stone was attached to. She jerked her head upward. The cloth snapped easily enough, and without missing a beat, she tossed it aside. Faltered for but a moment at the combination of the movement with the loss of borrowed support.

Well, that explained what it had been there for.

Still, the young woman turned creature knew it to be at least one culprit of her aches by now.

The toss caught the attention of those nearby.

Including the green clad murderer.

As she began to stay not only conscious but sufficiently less pain afflicted to tell what was happening around her, she'd seen him. There was indeed a tether looping her neck. The thin, faintly glowing golden rope led to a horse.

A horse that he was guiding more than one time she'd woken up.

He stooped and picked the stone and its strap up. A moment of weighing it in his hand, pale green eyes went to her.

They gauged each other. Though she fought it, she felt herself sneer for a moment.

Still, he left her alone, to struggle with her own unstable energy and strength, rising and tucking away the stone.

Currently, they seemed to be in an outdoor market of some sort, bustling with people dressed as oddly as he. He who was skirting around the place, leaving she and the horse unattended intermittently.

Which gave her time to figure out what had happened to she herself, so that she could focus on figuring out what was going on, what she needed to do.

It had to be every obsessively zealous wolf enthusiast's dream. Maybe not even that. Pain, something of a kidnapping, by the hands of a literal real life super villain-slash-warmonger. Not to mention she didn't _look_ like a wolf. More a...bull terrier, fluffy, that had survived a burning car crash. At least that's what she'd seen the third or so time she'd regained consciousness, in a gleaming surface. Her eyes looked back unsteadily. Longer, cat-like-flexible tail, covered with scant barb like fur. Down. Front claws semi-retractable, slightly larger back not seeming so. Covered in fur the darkest of brown, just shy of black. That unlike everything else made sense, given her hair. When...she was human...

She wasn't sure, if _maybe_ at least her head would look like a wolf, if her body wasn't currently covered in odd scarring or painfully oozing patches. Hoping said patches would heal-once they, finished morphing? Heal or morphed, either one was favorable to right now she thought. Right now they just hurt like hell.

Still, the former human stayed hunched in her not quite sitting position. Simply accepting their respite from walking or running quietly in favor of being able to view what was around her without it spinning.

She was busy still fighting back the passive urge to vomit anyway.

"Ah. Loki."

The chimera hadn't even realized he had ventured back so close, but she saw the apparently addressed warmonger glare at the man.

Admittedly she hadn't looked into the New York invasion overly much. Like a lot of others, it was hard not to remain skeptical about the entire thing. Aliens? Invading? Joined or, possibly even led by, what for all intents and purposes, appeared to be a human?

But Loki? There was a Norse mythology Loki. Aliens were possibly a thing, sure, but what kind of a thing? And that mythology was recorded thousands of years ago. And namesakes were a thing as well. An odd thing for names like Loki, but nonetheless. She didn't have the mental capacity to entertain that reaching possibility at the moment. Not with everything going on. Firmly pushing aside recollections of pictures of a hammer-wielding lightning summoner having been at the invasion.

It is impossible to live for much more than a century, names weren't exclusive, and neither were _powers_, since the possibility of aliens was already being humored. Stupid, coincidences.

She forcibly stopped entertaining the thoughts.

_Thought the human currently in a chimera's body._ Her mind was going too fast, pieces of a puzzle she still refused to believe falling together at neck-breaking speed in sensible train-of-thought sequence. As if the world hadn't already been spinning. Her eyes squeezed shut.

She was vaguely aware of giving a groaning growl and pulling at the rope for a moment. Forgetting to pay attention to "Loki" and the merchant's conversation to continue trying to figure out what was going on.

At least, for a few moments. Exhaustion and aches washed back over her, and the apprehension of missing anything that happened was the only thing keeping her awake. Or conscious, as was probably more accurate.

"...concern you later, if that is your hesitation."

The merchant eyed the tiredly slumped chimera behind the speaking where it stood tethered to the ebony horse. The chimera eyed him back where her head was bowed. "And what of that?"

"-A mistake," answered the addressed without hesitation and with hardly a thought after giving almost a half glance back at her.

"A mistake-?"

"-I'm beginning to wonder if you're truly more interested in our bargain or just in my affairs," said Loki, his tone taking on a noticeable darkness.

The man jostled his head with raised bushy brows, bodily turning to his own horse while keeping eyes on the raven-haired. "_Forgive_ me if _your_ affairs bring concern to _mine_," he said. "Especially when you're asking me to _involve_ you."

"_Involve_ infers a commitment more than just that of a simple trade."

"And you know full well that is what you ask of me, silver tongue."

Something flashed in the pale green irises. "I have already assured you, that won't be an issue. I may have acquired what you bartered for, but it is not too late for me to take by force."

They stayed locked in a mutual glare for several tense moments.

"...that's the prince I knew." The mustachioed man's face didn't change. But Loki's face went into a smirk after a moment. A smirk that looked...odd. Her eyes couldn't place how.

Maybe because of what it was in reaction to? She felt like she was in a real life villain back alley or something of the like. But it, the scenario, seemed as melodramatic as its naming. Too much so for her to take the whole thing seriously. For her to take at face value, given that she felt like she was missing something.

She remained confused-and wary-nonetheless.

"Easier to trust what's familiar and bare." A woman emerged from within the stand of a building behind the man as he spoke. Holding a...thing. The chimera examined it closely, as closely as she could from her distance and weakness. But that was the furthest sense she could make of the hinted gold shining contraption. It had a wheel, and it was a thing.

Mustache clapped the vaguely wrinkled woman on the shoulder, wrapping her in an arm. "Still the finest metallurgist in all of Asgard."

The former human immediately pushed that word aside too as the now smiling woman allowed Loki to take the thing. Before her mind could attempt to spiral again.

"I'm sure there are those who would contest that, but thank you."

"You're _welcome_, silver tongue," interjected mustache in a slightly amused tone as the woman looked offended. He closed the propped panel door to his concession window.

She felt almost as if she wasn't there, as Loki didn't even glance to her as he turned. Simply lithely mounted the horse while putting newly acquired thing in the satchel across his shoulder, and took off.

The chimera had no choice but to stumble along or be dragged. Something that almost happened anyway when he built to a trot then an all out run once the immediate path was clear of people.

A loud almost ripping sound, and she caught sight of everything around them suddenly changing before her energy felt pulled forcefully from her.

* * *

She didn't think she'd been out overly long this time when she came to. It wasn't minded that the stone was back this time, as she felt like she had just had the worst sleep ever. Loki was talking to people, another busy market square type place. Surprisingly, it wasn't overly hard to hear him amidst everything going on. He seemed to be looking for someone. But given that that wasn't outright malicious and she felt like a bus had hit her, she didn't overly care.

Three spot wanderings around the place later, tolerating the odd feeling of-probably magical, she tiredly accepted-assistance from the stone, she got her silent wish. He finally guided the horse, and by association her, into a stable then stall. She uncaringly collapsed in a not quite panting anymore heap on the hay next to where it stood drinking water, asleep instantly.

After the initial few hours of what wasn't so much sleep as it was utter exhaustion demanding a complete body and brain dormancy, she found herself unable to sleep anymore. Her eyes were open, but everything seemed coated in a syrupy film that clogged, or at least stemmed, her brain's processes. Perhaps it wasn't that, so much as she just had sleep now. There were no subconscious demands on her mind that were pressing to be met, pushing other thoughts aside in order to make room for itself. No dizzying aches or pains, or at least they weren't nearly as bad as they had been. She could think clearly.

So why could she still not understand what was going on?

Carefully she pieced together the days events. As if she _could_ forget what had happened.

Leaving her barista job for the day. Taking the shortcut through the alley. Assuming cloaked hooded figure was either a bored in the off season cosplayer or a pedestrian with an odd and gaudy in an odd possibly unintentional sort of way fashion sense. Falling. Pain, from first whatever stabbed into her arm upon her landing on it, then spreading to seemingly the bones of her entire body.

A glimpse of who she was ninety percent sure was the, for lack of a better word, super villain who had antagonized "the Avengers," in the occurrence in New York. Joining or leading the army of alien invaders in an attempt to conquer. "Loki," apparently. "God of mischief and lies" kneeling and leaning over her with a look of irritation, as her body almost felt as if it exploded in pain. Seeing his hands come into view hovering above her, beginning to glow, right as she lost consciousness.

One could have written it all off _as_ a very elaborate cosplay act, were it not for the oddness of the entire thing, and the glaring signs that this was very, nonplussingly, real.

Exhibit a: she had four legs and a tail.

Slowly, she tried to rise. Her body was still sore from the incredible pain earlier, what she now assumed to be the shift to the quadruped. But the action was doable. Staring at her arms...her..._forelegs,_ she tried the simplest thing she could think of first.

She reared back and stood on her hind legs. Predictably, near instantly losing balance and falling back forward. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she _had hoped _that that would be enough to convert her to her human form.

Bunk as otherwise predicted then.

With a chuff, golden eyes she'd seen in her reflection in the water, a startling change from brown, went to the tether keeping she and the horse connected. The chimera reached out to scoop it into her jaws, and with one bite, the rope was split.

Several reasons held her in place, staring at the deed. Among them, not surprise that it had taken but one bite to split, but that it had split at all. That her unwitting travel companion would bind her with such simple, surmountable rope. And then, the biggest question that kept her in place.

What now?

If the _villages_ they passed, on top of the dress of those she'd seen _in_ the villages was any indication, they were either passing through the largest Amish and sometimes steampunk community that existed, that had the strangest dress code of any she knew of.

Or they weren't _on_ Earth anymore.

Her head for some reason still refused to accept this. The floating land masses, one pegasus pulled carriage, and general lack of...well, _fearful_ reaction towards her giant-well, she would say she was only just larger than an average sized dog, but nonetheless creature self. The lack of reactions as she and the raven horse's rider passed by traveler and general outdoor dwellers alike. Garnering at most curious looks.

The stages of denial were going strong in her.

* * *

Day two was nearing its end, and he was still ignoring her.

At least, she _thought_ it was day two. Assumed. Who knew how long she had been a zombie dog on a leash.

Not knowing what to do the day before, she'd simply stayed. Deciding she would get answers soon enough. _Wanting_ answers. Loki wasn't flying around blowing people up. He was dragging her around, and she was, for whatever reason, alive.

Why? Did it have anything to do with her new form? And if it did, why? What? How?

Apparently he intended to _keep_ dragging her along though. Ignoring her stanced waiting for him to return, mending the split rope, and adding a rope muzzle to match. Which got tighter every time she attempted to remove it.

The muzzle was insult to the injury of the leash, humiliating, but the chimera ignored it. In favor of staring at Loki. Intent upon garnering his attention.

He artfully directed his eyes to never even look _towards_ her now however. Even as robed and garnished passerbys went from not reacting to her, to noticeably warily passing in a loop of space between she and them.

She otherwise didn't care that she had long since gone from staring expectantly to glaring.

But the former human knew that this was probably the reason he'd stopped mid market prowling to leave the horse and she in a stall yet again.

Golden eyed glare wasn't reserved from people coming and going at this stable too. She was careful not to spook their mounts though, after her first near-trampled incident. "Mounts," because while uncommon, not everyone left a _horse_ to go trading or whatever it was that happened here.

She could growl and glare unreservedly near Loki's ebony equine however. Only occasionally getting an anxious look or worried shuffle from it.

Which was in itself worrying, when she thought back to wondering just how long she had been here, a chimera.

Writing it off to the mount of a psycopath had to be calm, had seen too many a thing to still be easily spooked was optimal for sating herself. But doubt-having the same horse this whole time, as much traveling as it seemed they'd been doing in short time-still nagged in the back of her mind.

And this was time number three he'd not only left her in a stable, but guided her from a stable without a word. It was going on the third day she'd been here, a chimera, the sun setting over oddly dew frosted fields.

She wanted answers.

Waiting until they were clear of the stable, and far enough away that there was barely a soul other than they themselves on the path. She guessed that he was about to pick up speed, teleport them elsewhere again. But she planted her hee-..._claws_, and braced.

The chimera was surprised to find her strength to be enough to be off-putting to the horse. Enough so that its trot was interrupted by a stumble, and it began to strain forward. It wasn't enough that it couldn't contest however.

Nowhere near finished, she bucked. Jerked back on the mount. Spun in undignified and indignant circles. Tortured her throat with roars through her nose. Ignored the fact that her rope muzzle was slowly getting tighter and tighter. Her eyes watering. The horse kept throwing its head up at the strongest of these tugs. Looking like it wanted to rear, or turn and face her at the very least. But it didn't.

Finally, when several minutes had passed and they'd made nowhere _near_ as much progress as the days previous, when she was fairly sure she tasted blood and that her teeth were forever stuck together, that she had left a few claws behind, she felt the pulling stop. Golden eyes looked up in time to see the green-clad figure dismount in one swift, graceful but startling, motion.

She drew back slightly before she realized her self.

His mannerism wasn't intimidating, she told herself, despite the fact that she was virtually defenseless at the moment. And a confirmed killer was approaching her. ...it wasn't. The pounding in her ears was nothing...

Hackles bristled and her form went defensively lower despite all this. Muzzle in as much of a snarl as the restraint would allow.

Well at least she wasn't seemingly invisible anymore. Though that meant the man-not man?-was perfectly demonstrating an attempt to at the very least horribly maim with nothing but one's eyes, piercing directly into her eyes.

He stopped a few feet away, but did nothing but continue to look at her. She realized after this lasted that perhaps he was waiting for her to back off of her current composure.

She did no such thing.

Feeling her tail give a few flicking sways to emphasize such.

"What questions must you have..," Loki said aloud exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked, and sounded for that matter, like someone who had just been given an unwanted puppy as a present.

She silently inwardly glared at her mind for using a puppy, though it was unintentionally relevant.

"You have no purpose being here." He pinched the bridge of his nose tighter, baring his teeth ever so slightly in clear irritation. Frustration. "I did not realize you were so close when I traversed the path back to this realm." Realm. Her mind slowly began to weave itself around that word. "But you were, and as setbacks go, you were, and the jump was thrown by an extra presence. We landed in the creatures' grave, and you were cursed and shifted to your present form."

He finally let go of his nose to glare at her. She met the look evenly, pretending not to drawback more into her defensive crouch. "I have no desire to kick up any unnecessary dirt, as I've already _enough_ on my hands looking..." He trailed off. "Once I've a respite to procure how to change you back without afflicting you with any _other _lasting ailments, I will return you to Midgard. It will be quick and painless-"

The chimera stood up straighter at that, letting a quiet growl escape. Through her nose. Above her beyond feeling jaws.

Loki rolled his eyes.

"_If_ you _cooperate_," he said, snide, hardened look not softening a bit but rather growing darker. She shrunk back a bit in earnest at that, even though the snarl remained firmly on her expression.

.

The innkeeper had kept regarding her even as her companion approached after the man in front of them's short business with him and requested a room. Even ignoring the coin that was then placed on the counter in favor of continuing to stare.

"If you are so worried about the beast, though tame as you can see it is, then I will take my coin elsewhere." Loki reached to take back his offering.

A calloused hand went up to stop him, glancing away from the former human for the first time. Only for a moment.

Clearly however, despite the threat, traveling elsewhere was not a favorable option. Evidenced by "silver tongue's" next words: "Look, it is tame enough." He glanced down at the chimera now too, though meaningfully.

She nodded, despite being called an it. It wouldn't have to be tolerated overlong anyway. She could handle being a rhetorical rug if that's what he seemed to want her to do. Compromise yielded its own rewards.

The nod that literally nodded to her sentience seemed to sway the inn owner as well. "Apologies." He took the barter, stashing it away behind the counter.

The room he showed them to, while expansive enough to house the bed and a desk in the corner and still have room leftover, was otherwise quaint in the respect that she'd expected it to be. Given that such was the theme all the rest of the places they'd been had followed. Rustic, medieval-ish...

When the innkeeper gave her one last wary look then left, the chimera had turned expectantly to Loki. Only to find him disappearing through a door she assumed to be a washroom of some sort. Stifling the small nip of impatience and backing into a corner of the room to wait awkwardly. And confused, when she heard water begin to fall for what sounded like a shower. Or a bath, as the sound stopped a few minutes later, but the water-on-water sound persisted.

It wasn't overlong of distracting herself pondering non-Earth water irrigation systems before the sound stopped, and only a minute more before he reemerged.

The leathered armor and bronzed embroiderings were gone. In their place, simple faded black cloth pants and what was almost surprisingly semblant to what passed as a robe on Earth. Her newly over-sensitive sense of smell picked up the smell of a gritty soap like substance along with his now unmarred by dirt or grime scent.

Golden eyes watched him collapse completely onto his back on the bed. She rose slightly, almost half expectantly. But then:

"If you make so much as a _peep_ in the next four hours, I will chain you to the centerpiece of the grounds like the creature you've the unfortunancy to have shifted yourself to and not retrieve you from the gawks, elements, glares, mockery nor contemplation of passing would-be warriors who will consider slaying you as fodder for their grossly exaggerated tales until one of them goes as far as to try it. Perhaps not even then."

The chimera's eyes had somewhat widened involuntarily by the end of the threat. But she settled just as quickly, as she wasn't even near the panic attack fearful she'd been the day previous. After that, her introduction to her current body, her capability to feel any type of fear _at all _felt sore to access. And this was still too tender of a situation to really offer up a retort anyway. At best, she settled on the fact-seeming fact-that he'd almost in a roundabout way said he wasn't going to kill her. Had said that the ultimate goal was to change her back, then send her back home. Which was probably why he was allowing himself into a vulnerable state with her in the room. Hadn't told her anything else. Not what the hurry was to make it to the previous lodgings, not where he'd disappeared to the previous day. Not the noise of the confrontation.

The young woman pushed curiosity aside, not wanting to think about it. The less she knew about the former would be conqueror of world, the better. He didn't seem to be up to anything outright or actively malicious. More for himself than her, he'd said he'd find a way to change her back. It was all good enough for her. He seemed more eager to send her home, to put her back where she belonged, impossibly more than _she _was.

Patience, it seemed, would have to be the virtue she drew upon. Perhaps understanding would come later as well...

"Midgard" was the word for Earth here, she assumed. Or...realm... The word for the realm where Earth was?

Lowering herself back down in the corner where she'd settled, she crossed her..._paws._ Feeling the air from a sigh brush over them. Allowing her mind to continue on its train of thought, waiting...


End file.
